


Hit That Perfect Beat, Boy!

by Billywick



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: M/M, unabashed fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:17:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Billywick/pseuds/Billywick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the general continuity of 'Can't take the Sky from me'. Noh-Varr introduces Tommy to some of his favourite music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit That Perfect Beat, Boy!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DangerousCommieSubversive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/gifts).



> Since it's commie's birthday (or I missed it?) I filled your prompt. I hope you like it v.v
> 
> Here's what Noh-Varr was playing:  
> Hit That Perfect Beat- Bronski Beat  
> Speed - Billy Idol

_I’ve got that feeling, that perfect feeling, hm that beat boy feeling, all over me..._

Coming home to the flat pumping with music was nothing new for Tommy. Actually, it was kind of nice to think someone waited for him at home. Certainly helped smooth over that whole transition from his old, hectic life. His new lease on life still happened at speeds to make others dizzy but to him, it was perfect. The challenge of college and his looming internship at a law firm needed the counterweight of domestic harmony.

Well, as harmonic as a speedster an alien cockroach from outer space could get. To most people’s surprise, they worked pretty well together. Noh-Varr still did his ‘superhero community service’ with the group of hyper-intelligent delinquent kids three times a week, turning their confusion and latent criminal ability to something productive for society. He called bettering the human race step by step. It wasn’t quite as revolutionary as his stint as a villainous vigilante erasing the scum of society, but it was legal and Avenger-sanctioned work. Tommy liked to think his tenacious boyfriend secretly liked working with the teenaged mutants, turning them into a little legion for a better future. It suited the Kree and the days Tommy actually watched him work, he felt incredibly proud of his lover. Progress was the only way to better humanity and Noh-Varr was an instrument of his own belief in that aspect.

And he was also becoming an incredible cook and music lover extraordinaire. The speedster chuckled as he unlocked the door instead of vibrating through it. He was instantly assaulted by a myriad of pleasant smells, cooked meat and some delicious sauce probably created by whichever spices Noh’s palette found pleasing this week.

Not to mention the volume of whatever 80’s earworm hounded the Kree’s fancy this week.

“If you make that racket any louder, Cap’s gonna kick down the door and have you for domestic disturbance charges!” he called into the apartment as he kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his jacket.

“Good thing I have a future lawyer to defend my rights then, hm?”

Noh-Varr had this knack for taking Tommy’s breath away, even after almost a year of seeing him daily. The Kree favoured loose and little clothing in the comforts of their home and tonight was no different. A light muscleshirt and loose green pants did everything right on his body, accentuating the curves of muscle on his legs, revealing his powerful arms and broad shoulders, even spanning tightly across his chest and abdomen.

Tommy wasn’t hungry for dinner anymore, he’d skip right to his proffered after-dinner mints in the shape of his boyfriend.

“I’m not a lawyer yet, you’d look pretty damn silly with a college kid as your defense.”

Noh-Varr chuckled and wrapped him into an embrace that had Tommy’s toes curl with warmth. He’d grown used to being welcomed into someone’s arms and after the array of dramatic tragedies the two of them had been through in the past, it was easy to sink into his personal version of domestic bliss.

“I’m sure you’d get me out of any trouble I can cook up.”

“Speaking of cooking, I hope tonight’s not gonna be...interesting.”

Tommy remembered the meal recycled from what humans considered trash all too well. And the ensuing stomach cramps that made him think he was possibly dying and leaving all his debts to Billy to fulfill.

The Kree wrapped around him gave a snort and nuzzled his neck before driving him over into the living room adjoined to the kitchen. A pot steamed amiably on the cooker, accompanied by several covered dishes. It was probably a delicious dinner.

“I promise nothing except that you’ll like it.”

The upbeat eighties tune faded out, replaced by a racing rock rhythm that made even Tommy’s toes tap.

“Alright, I give, what’s playing now?”

It was an invitation for the sparkle in Noh’s eye to take hold and part his lips into a grin. Tommy seldom gave Noh’s love for music free reign to entice him, but tonight, the mood was too calming, soothing even to deny his Kree anything that might please him. Or definitely please him as enquiries about his musical taste often did.

“You don’t know?”

Noh-Varr almost twirled from him, except the movement of his well-trained body was incapable of anything but fluid grace coupled with purpose. He was by the stereo now, waiting for the lyrics, matching the deep voice of the singer whilst tossing the cover of the CD (not a vinyl for a change) for Tommy to read.

“Billy Idol?”  
Noh didn’t answer, too pleased with the timing of this song and Tommy’s return home. The tune was fast and beautifully balanced and the lyrics...well they certainly turned his thoughts towards the young man he shared his life with every day and night.

“If you were to have a theme song, like a fictional character, this would be it.”

Tommy gave a snort of laughter, before paying attention to the lyrics.

When the song hit its chorus of repeating a love for speed, he had the decency to flush slightly. To think Noh-Varr could be such a hidden romantic was kind of gross and sappy and perfectly alright. As long as he was the only one who knew about it.

“Are you serious, babe?” he asked with another laugh and smile, which Noh-Varr again didn’t answer, lending his voice to the song instead.

“Speed, gimme what I need, yeah! White lightning, let’s speed on speed on wheels on wheels,”

“Are you _singing_ to me? Noh-Varr I think you’ve gone Earth-crazy, seriously!”

His half-formed protest was choked in his throat when the Kree pulled him up into something that might resemble a dancing position, but mostly ended up as an excuse to grind together to the catchy rhythm of the song.

Tommy made play at being as in tune with their musical backing as Noh-Varr, shifting and swaying and somehow, still grinning. It was Noh, in all of his hidden, charming and undiluted innocence, the kind of core romance novelists gave ‘tough guys’ and had women swooning en masse. And this Kree was all his, even if he was being adorably idiotic and singing along to 80’s rock.

With two arms around Noh-Varr’s neck, Tommy reeled him in to seal their lips together in a brief kiss, the speedster shaking his head when they parted and Noh’s eyes glowed with what he presumed to be enthusiasm and happiness. This guy was unbelievable and never failed to surprise the fastest mutant to race across Earth.

“You’re an absolute dork, did you know that?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds like a compliment. And I’ll take it as such and not as a criticism of the divine musical stylings of William Michael Albert Broad.”

Tommy crinkled his nose as the song faded out behind them and the pounding of Noh’s heart made for an even better tune in his ear.

“Who’s that?”  
“Billy Idol.”

“Oh.”

“Your lack of important knowledge is astounding, Tommy Shepherd.”

That comment earned Noh-Varr a nudge between the ribs he barely felt and an eye-roll.

“I got a few other things on my mind, roach-boy.”

“Such as?”

“Dinner,” Tommy’s smug tone certainly killed that hopeful expression on the Kree’s face, but he didn’t have the villainous intent of impairing Noh’s fantastic mood, “and maybe after that, you can play me your theme song. Is it Starman? Bowie is totally down your alley.”

Noh-Varr’s grin might have eclipsed the sun, or maybe Tommy was just prejudiced in that aspect. He was going to spend the night looking over vinyl covers and watch his adorable Kree explain the finer workings of stringing notes together to convey emotions and whatever else Noh-Varr interpreted into the simplest of songs.

Yeah, their life together was pretty weird. But also pretty damn fucking awesome.


End file.
